


Sleeping With A Broken Heart

by mscarolcanoa



Category: Girls Aloud, cheryl - Fandom, chim - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 18:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11167770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscarolcanoa/pseuds/mscarolcanoa
Summary: I wake up. The baby is crying. My back hurts. I’m cold. I slowly sit up, stretching carefully, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Damn, I still have yesterday’s makeup on. I reach out blindly for my alarm clock and my hand meets concrete. Opening my eyes properly I see pop up tents, kids in sleeping bags all camped in the centre of town outside a huge shop. My little sister is still asleep next to me, all wrapped up in a pink sleeping bag, and my baby daughter is screaming, bundled inside her carry cot.  What the fuck are we doing here? For a moment I begin to panic, trying to remember what I did last night, but then I see a huge poster, two stories high, plastered on the side of a building. I see a face, perfect dark hair, flawless brown eyes and deep dimples. I read the words ‘signing TODAY.’ “fuuck” I whisper.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written by thats-all-i-wrote.tumblr.com
> 
> DISCLAIMER this fanfic will include swearing, sex, drug abuse and lots of other adult content. Don't like, don't read. I don't own any of the characters, and this is purely fictional.

“Kimbeerrleeeeey” whined Sacha, my little sister “how much longer do we have to wait?”

“I dunno babes” I replied, stroking my eight year old sister’s head, brushing her thick, dark hair out of her eyes. It was nearly nine o’clock at night and she was tired. So was I, and I had to be at work in a few hours. In fact everyone in the queue looked shattered, and they’d all waited for hours, days even, to meet their idol.

Sacha had nagged me for days, pleading with me to take her to the signing. “Please Kimberley” she’d said, her big, dark, puppy dog eyes never leaving my own. “Please, this is all I want, I just wanna meet her. You’re the best big sister in the whole world, I love you sooo much...” Even our dad agreed with her. “It’ll do her good, she’ll love it. Stop being so selfish Kimberley. It’s not all about you” he’d said, never taking his bloodshot eyes off the TV. “Just take her Kimberley.” And I was too tired, too miserable, to argue with either of them. Anyway, what harm would it do? So I said yes. I said yes, I would take her to go see Cheryl Cole.

Standing in the line I hugged my baby daughter closer, resting my chin on her head of soft black curls. “It won’t be much longer” I whispered, half to myself and half to Sacha, who smiled at me.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. And if she’s not here soon I’m gonna be late for work.”

All day we’d waited, Sacha eating endless packets of monstermunch and talking to anyone and everyone. My baby grizzled and cried. I was bored. I painted my nails, then Sacha’s, carefully painting ‘I <3 CC’ on each of her tiny nails. Quickly a small crowd of teenage girls congregated around me, some of them older than I was, all shyly asking if I would paint their nails. I painted everyone’s even some of the boy’s, writing ‘CHERYL COLE’ and ‘FFTL<3’, a letter on each nail. Sacha held the baby whilst I painted, and she chatted away to everyone. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t even make eye contact with many people. The younger children looked at me in awe, the teenagers looked at me as if they were scared and their parents looked at me as if I were scum. ‘You are scum’ I reminded myself. I listened to what they said, the way they babbled on, and the snatched snippets of songs that they sung.

"Ooh, thank you! It’s beautiful! You’re so clever!” they cooed, grinning at me when I’d finished. And I smiled too, happy with my work, but still silent.

But now the sun had gone down and it was getting colder once again. Shivers ran through the waiting crowd and somebody called out “she’s on her way!” The crowd seemed to take a breath in, and became almost silent. Suddenly I felt as though the people around me were closing in, I was being squashed, I couldn’t even breathe...

“Hold her.” I thrust the baby at Sacha, who instinctively clutched her tight. “I need air.”

“But Kim, you heard them, she’s coming-”

"I'll be two minutes, I promise” I say, already turning and walking away, looking over my shoulder at my little sister, standing alone in the crowd, holding the baby. She looks lost, alone. But then I turn away, and walked away as quickly as I could towards the disgusting public toilets at the end of the street, my trainers squeaking on the concrete.

I wrenched the toilet door open and stepped inside, listening intently. Silence. Nobody was there. The sticky tiles were wet under my feet and there was an unnatural chill in the air, making my skin come up in goose bumps. I crossed the room and placed my hands around the edge of one of the sinks and leant forwards so that my forehead was almost touching the cracked glass of the mirror. I looked at my reflection. I looked shocking. My long, light brown hair fell limply around my face, puffy purple bags hung under my dark eyes and my skin was far too pale. Taking off my cap I scraped my hair away from my face, but it only highlighted the huge, dark shadows under my cheekbones, so I let it fall back down again. I looked tired, sad guilty.

"No” I said out loud. I mentally shook myself. “It’ll all be okay. Get a grip Kimberley.” I tried to pretend that I didn’t have butterflies eating away at my stomach. I picked up my cap and fixed it at what I liked to think of as an ‘I don’t give a toss’ angle, smiling at the word ‘PIMP’ that was written on the front in big, red capital letters. I ran my eyes over the rest of my outfit, my white vest top through which you could just see my leopard bra, my silver army dog tags, my grey skinny jeans that clung tightly to my curves, and my old battered trainers with red laces. From my bag I pulled a packet of tiny white tablets. I popped one and swallowed it easily without water. Then I stood back, glancing for a final time at my reflection, smiling sadly. ‘I’m going to meet Cheryl Cole’ I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

I hurried back through the crowd, searching for Sacha. Just as I arrived, two huge security guards opened the doors and people began to file forwards, nervous but excited, some of them crying. I took the baby from my sister who looked so happy that I was worried that she might cry too. I crouched down to her eye level.

“Are you okay babe?”

She nodded furiously and whispered “am I actually going to meet her? Really?”

“See them doors over there?” I said, pointing to the entrance of the sop. Sacha nodded again. “She’s just through there. Not long to wait now kiddo.”

Soon people started to leave the shop, all either grinning ear to ear or in floods of tears, all clutching signed books and CDs. The queue started to get smaller, and we begun to edge towards the doors. Sacha went very quiet and clung around my legs, whispering “she’s just through there, she’s really just through there” to herself every few moments. The baby cried feebly, and I rocked her gently, praying that she would go back to sleep. And still the queue got shorter. I could feel the heat radiating from the open doors of the shop, the lights ablaze inside illuminating Sacha’s face, making her blink furiously. Time seemed to be moving in bursts, one moment I felt as though we would never get any closer, and the next, the grim faced security guards were drawing back the tape in front of the doors and we were suddenly inside the shop.

Sacha had got her well read copy of ‘Through My Eyes’ from her rucksack and was holding it so tightly it seemed to restrict her breathing, which seemed to come in excited little gasps. The baby stopped crying, confused by the sudden bright light, and I sung quietly to her. The only thing between us and where Cheryl was sat was another huge poster, blocking our view. We could hear voices though, and I could tell that Sacha was listening intently, trying to identify Cheryl’s voice.

“Kimberley” Sacha whispered. I looked down at her.

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared” she muttered. I tried not to laugh at her serious dark eyes and her pouting lips. What did she have to be scared of? I wanted to hug her, but I was holding the baby, so instead I awkwardly pulled her to me in a one armed hug with the baby between us.

Yet another security guard, built like a brick wall said “you can go”.

“Where?” I said stupidly, before realising that we were at the front of the queue, and he was motioning us forwards. It was our turn. Breaking away from Sacha, I pulled her forwards. “Come on” I said to her. She clung to my legs, half tripping me up. I felt sick, tired, but tried to walk as normally as possible behind the poster, towards the table.

There were surprisingly many people around, security and management, I thought. But my eyes were instinctively drawn to Cheryl, sitting confidently alone at the centre of the table. The first thing she said to me was “I’ve been hearing about you.”

“What?” I said, feeling as though the bottom of my stomach had been ripped out. She knew. Oh fuck, she knew...

“You’ve been painting nails! I hope you’ve been charging them!”

I could breathe again. “It’s okay. I was bored, it was no trouble.”

“Where are you from?”

“Bradford. Im Kimberley, by the way.”

“And what’s your name babes?” she says, smiling at Sacha. Her accent was stronger than I remembered it on the TV.

“Sacha” my little sister into my leg, not making eye contact.

“She’s a bit shy suddenly” I say, smiling down at her.

“That’s a beautiful name! Are these your sisters pet?” Cheryl asked, nodding towards me and the baby. Sacha shook her head.

“No, I’m her sister, but this is my daughter” I explain. I saw Cheryl’s big, dark eyes glance over my body, trying to work out my age. She blinked.

“How old are you pet?”

“Seventeen” her eyes widened. I wondered if she was shocked.

“Can I hold her?” she held her arms out to me, across the table. I hesitated, but beside me Sacha finally found her tongue.

“Yes” she said, so I said nothing, carefully passing the baby to Cheryl, who held her, cuddling her close.

“What’s her name?” she asked, looking at me.

“Diana” I replied.

“Diana” she repeated “Hello Diana. That’s a beautiful name, like the princess. How old is she? She’s tiny!”

I wondered if she always asked so many questions. “3 weeks”.

“Look at her little fingers!” I saw her eyes glance over my baby just the way she’d glanced at me, taking in every detail, her dark curls, her long, dark eyelashes, her light brown skin, the colour of milky coffee. “She’s so beautiful. You’re so lucky.”

“Thank you” I smiled “I know”.

“So do you go to school?” She asks.

I laugh, and Sacha says “No, Kimberley’s a dancer!”

Cheryl’s eyes dart to me, full of genuine interest now. “Really? What type?”. Her eyes linger on my trainers. “I’m guessing not ballet?”

Again Sacha replies before I get chance “clubs, she dances in clubs!” Mentally I swear. Why couldn’t Sacha keep her mouth shut?

“I work in bars too...” I say hurriedly, not sure whether I’m making myself appear better or worse. If Sacha wasn’t there I would have just said ‘I’m a hooker’ and not cared what Cheryl thought about me, but I couldn’t say that in front of my eight year old sister. Cheryl seemed to be thinking along the same lines, dark eyes now flitting from Sacha to my cap. I could see words in her eyes, ‘hooker, whore, prostitute, call girl’ all in her head. I suddenly wish it didn’t say ‘PIMP’ in such huge letters on the front of my cap.

“So you’re like...a call girl...”

“Yes”

“Oh”

I looked at her, waiting for something in those beautiful dark eyes to shut down, waiting for her face to go blank, waiting for her to ask the security guards to get us to leave. I almost want her to hate me, but she doesn’t. “Oh” she repeats, and I realise that she looks upset. She’s still holding Diana, my daughter. She looks at me, and says, her voice slightly higher than normal, “are you on twitter?”

I’m shocked “ummm, yeah”

“What’s your name on there?”

“I’ll write it down for you” she passes me a pen, and I pull a business card from my pocket, writing my twitter name on the blank side. I pass it to her.

“Thank you” she says.

“Please, can you please sign my book please?” asks Sacha, shyly pushing it across the table.

Cheryl gently kisses Diana’s forehead before passing her back to me, so carefully that she could have been as fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Cheryl signed the book whilst Sacha chattered away. Cheryl was very beautiful, surprisingly beautiful. Her dark hair was glossy and perfect, falling almost down to her waist. She was thinner than I thought she would be, and her body reminded me of Sacha, her limbs thin like a beautifully toned insect.

“I want to be like you when I grow up” Sacha is saying.

“You want to be a singer?”

“No, I want to be beautiful, like you. I love you.”

“I love you too! It’s been lovely to meet you, all of you” Cheryl says, giving the book back to Sacha “I won’t forget you” I hold Sacha’s hand, and mouth ‘thank you’ at Cheryl, who smiles at me, that million dollar smile that could bring an army to its knees. She blows a kiss to Sacha, who is grinning ear to ear. Then we turn away and leave.

I thought I’d never see Cheryl Cole again. How wrong was I?


End file.
